“All right, Ambassador, we’re all here. You mind telling us what this is all about?”

Captain Taneka took a seat as she waited for him to respond. They’d gathered on the Mess deck; Mako’s crew, Rúna and her Marines, with Ess Peon observing from a nearby monitor, all of them waiting for an answer.

“By now, I’m sure you’re all aware of our situation,” he began. “We have a Troika fleet holding us hostage in order to get their hands on Precursor technology.” There were nods all around. The officers in both groups made it a policy to keep their people informed. “I have just spoken with Dàifu Khatsakhox, and she’s made it clear the Provisional Government will not willingly part with anything associated with the Precursors. Instead, they are sending an armada of Corsair ships on a rescue mission, though it will be several days before they can arrive.”

“And what are we supposed to do in the meantime?” Ess Peon wondered aloud.

“Stall,” he admitted, albeit reluctantly, “which means I will be doing a lot of talking to keep them occupied until help arrives. Though if anyone else has ideas on the subject, I would dearly love to hear them.”

“I’ll bet,” Taneka snorted. “I already told you there’s not much I can do. We’re surrounded, outnumbered, and outgunned. If I so much as twitch, they’ll open fire.”

“Do we know that for a fact, though?” Rúna said pointedly. “It could be a bluff. They might not want to risk open conflict with us, especially after the Battle of New Terra.” More vigorous nods this time, as they recalled their recent victory over the enemy.

“It’s not a theory I’m willing to test,” she snapped. “I’m not risking the safety of this ship or my crew based on nothing more than a hunch.” The temperature dropped several degrees as both women stared daggers at one another until Genvass held up his hand.

“The last thing we want to do is risk provoking the Troika when they clearly hold the upper hand,” he said pointedly. “As long as we can keep them talking, that’s still our best bet. Unfortunately,” he sighed, getting to the real reason for this meeting, “I fear there’s more going on here than we realize.”

“I beg your pardon?” Ess Peon said in confusion. “What are you talking about?”

“Towards the end of our conversation, the Dàifu’s tone took a sudden shift, one I wasn’t prepared for. Since the very beginning, she’s been the one pushing for a Terran Diplomatic Corps, looking for ways to find peaceful solutions. She’s the one that put all of us together for this mission, but after our most recent dialogue… I am starting to question her true motives.”

They all stared back at him, with expressions ranging from confused to stunned to worried. “What are you saying, Ambassador?” Taneka said at last. “That she has a hidden agenda?”

“I’m concerned that’s exactly what’s happening,” he nodded. “I thought she was seeking a peaceful alliance with the other races, but now?” He shook his head. “She’s angry. Angry at the other races, angry enough perhaps to deliberately create a Casus Belli.”

“A justification for war,” Ess Peon translated from the original Latin. “You think she’s provoking this? That she’s trying to incite conflict between us and the other races?”

“... son of a fucking bitch,” Rúna snarled, her face contorted in fury. “Not this. Not again.” Her Marines were now as incensed as she was, while the others stared in confusion. “I will not stand by and let my people be used as pawns because some goddamn clan leader wants to start a fucking war. Not after what we’ve been through.”

Now it was Genvass’ turn to stare. “What are you talking about?” he asked her.

“... Sonoitii Prime,” she hissed, as if the very name itself burned like acid on her tongue. Everyone knew the tale, of course. It had been a bitter, hard-fought battle with horrific casualties. In the end, however, it sparked the creation of the Alliance, the same entity that eventually defeated the Troika. Genvass had known Rúna and her team were there, that it was where she’d first met the Paygan, though he’d never asked about it. He’d sensed it was a touchy subject.

“Our battalion was intentionally left on that world without support, so the Commandant could use our dead as a rallying cry,” she said with barely controlled fury. “I buried a lot of good people there. People I cared about. People… I loved.” Her voice seemed to catch in her throat, as he realized she was talking about Kai. “And she got what she wanted,” Rúna continued, the hate and pain emanating from her like a dark sun. “Zakiyya got her Alliance… and all it cost was a few dead Valkyries.” She turned her full attention to Genvass, who unconsciously took a step back as she advanced on him. “So if your Dàifu thinks she can play the same fucking game with my people’s lives, let me tell you something right now.” Gripping the hilt of her sword, she leaned in. “I swear, by Holy Mother Terra, that I will cut the beating heart from her chest and hold it to her face so that it’s the last thing she ever fucking sees.” Looming even closer, so much so that their noses practically touched, she growled, “Believe it.“

Genvass swallowed. “I do,” he stammered.

A figure appeared beside her. “Ma’am?” the man said quietly. It was the Knight, Svoboda, stepping into her line of sight to make his presence known. Staring into her eyes, Genvass could see the flames of hell burning bright deep within, as she hungered to slake her bloodlust. But the medic’s appearance triggered something inside her, and as he watched, he saw those flames slowly cool, then fade back away. Her nostrils flared as she took a deep breath, fighting to regain control, before finally stepping back. She scanned the compartment, glaring at the others, daring them to say a word, though thankfully no one was foolish enough to try. Satisfied, she stalked back to her seat, even as her team formed a protective shell, shielding her.

No one knew what to say after that. Finally, once he could breathe again, Genvass cleared his throat. “I pray I’m wrong about this,” he told them, “and at the moment I don’t have a shred of evidence to back it up. But something is off about all of this, and I’m starting to feel like someone is pulling our strings.”

“Peacemaker,” Taneka said suddenly. “If you’re right about this, then they have to be a part of it. It’s because of them that the galaxy is up in arms.”

“Not necessarily,” Genvass said after a moment. “I’ve met Samara and Captain Hadad, and neither of them is particularly bashful regarding the other species. Someone might have manipulated them into this, just like us.”

“Too bad they’re not answering comms,” the captain lamented. “I’m curious what they could add to the conversation.”

“As am I,” the ambassador agreed. “I don’t suppose there’s some clever pirate trick that would get their attention?”

Taneka suddenly got an odd cast to her eyes. “Maybe,” she allowed. “There are ways to get a message out if you want to stay off the grid. I guarantee Remi knows them as well as I do.”

Genvass stepped forward. “If we crafted a message for you, do you think you could get it to him?” he asked hopefully.

“Hold on, it’s not that simple,” she balked. “We’re talking about a chain of cut-outs, dead drops, and cell networks that haven’t been maintained since we inherited New Terra. I don’t know if any of them are still operational, and even if they are, it’s going to take time to get a message to him. This isn’t hyper-wave we’re talking about.”

“But can you do it?” he repeated, refusing to be put off.

The Corsair sighed. “I won’t know until I try.”

“That’s all I can ask,” he nodded. “I’ll get started on the message. I should have something for you in an hour.” Looking at the others, he said, “That’s all I had to say, anyway. If anyone has any ideas, by all means, let me know. That’s it for now.”

The meeting now adjourned, the group broke up as they left to resume their normal duties, while Genvass headed for his quarters.

“And if the Troika should call in the interim?” Taneka asked him, as he was exiting the compartment.

His shoulders slumped. “Obviously, put them through immediately,” he said in resignation.

Genvass was still struggling with the wording of his message when Rúna entered their shared quarters, dumping a heavy duffel on her bunk. Zipping it open, she began laying out several weapons before setting the bag aside as she straddled the cot. Taking up the nearest firearm, she began breaking it down, disassembling it into its component parts. It was a ritual he had seen her perform many times before, taking up a wire brush as she went to work, completely focused on the task at hand.

“You haven’t fired that weapon since we left New Terra,” he observed. “I’m almost certain it’s still clean.”

“Not the point,” she answered, her eyes never leaving the various metallic parts.

“Then what is the point?” he asked, now curious.

“Maintenance is a good habit to keep up,” she explained, “just ask the Tinkers.”

“Something tells me it’s more than that.”

Rúna finished with the part she’d been working on, setting it aside and picking up another. “It helps me relax,” she admitted. “Blye told me once that ancient monks used to sweep up or garden to meditate. Something about performing simple tasks you’ve done a thousand times helping free your mind, somehow.” Putting down her brush, she began reassembling the weapon with clean economic movements, the pieces fitting together like a puzzle. Pulling back the slide, she gave it a quick functions check, before grunting in satisfaction. She placed it in the duffel bag before moving on to the next one, as she started the procedure from scratch. “And right now, I could use a little clarity,” she said softly.

He cocked his head, regarding her. “Would you like to talk about it?”

She paused, looking up. “No,” she told him, before going back to her work.

“Fair enough,” he shrugged. He wasn’t going to push it. Instead, he went back to drafting the message.

“It’s not that I don’t appreciate the offer,” she said a few minutes later, causing him to look up instead. “It’s just… you don’t have the frame of reference.”

It took him a moment to get her meaning. “Because I wasn’t there,” he realized.

“Yeah,” she nodded. “Even other Valkyries don’t get it… the ones in other units, I mean. You should see the way they look at me when they think I’m not paying attention.” She shook her head in disgust. “Like I’m some damn hero or something.”

“Perhaps because to them, you are,” Genvass suggested.

Her shoulders tensed as she slowly turned to face him. “You want to know what a hero is?” she asked him. “A ‘hero’ is someone who, by some fucking miracle, survived hell… and then spends the rest of their life wishing they hadn’t.” She angrily returned to her cleaning, the once graceful motions now rushed and fractious.

The bitter words echoed in his ears as he set down the stylus and rose to his feet, traversing the small berth as he sat down across from her. She glanced up, suspicious.

“You’re right, I wasn’t there,” he agreed, “and I know nothing about combat.” He sighed, looking into her eyes. “But I know pain when I see it, and I can tell you’ve been carrying more than your fair share for a very long time.” She winced and looked away as he forged on. “You told me when we boarded, you were the one person I could be myself around if I ever needed to talk.” He smiled. “That goes both ways, Rúna. I consider you a friend. I’m here, if you need me.”

She started to speak, before shaking her head in rough jerks. Rúna screwed her eyes closed tight, her every muscle now knotted like a spring under tension. With every bit of strength she had, she fought to keep control… until a single watery gasp finally broke through.

Genvass staggered as she launched herself at him, her arms wrapping around his neck as she bawled into his chest with great, wracking sobs. Her body convulsed while she clung to him, the breath torn from her lungs as she cried in ragged gasps. Tears stained his shirt as he enfolded his arms around her and simply held on, letting her cry. Her wails of anguish tore at his soul. It wasn’t fair that someone as kind and decent as Rúna should be the bearer of so much suffering.

But then, no one had ever accused the universe of being fair.

It was sometime later that he realized her breathing had slowed, that her sobs had subsided into mere snuffles as she slowly pulled away. Her face was red and puffy as a trail of snot dribbled from her nose. His hands went to his pockets, frantically searching for a handkerchief before realizing he didn’t actually possess one. Genvass shrugged sheepishly, earning him a watery snort as she simply wiped her sleeve across her face before letting out a long sigh.

“... thank you,” she whispered, suddenly unable to meet his gaze.

“Anytime,” he smiled, carefully disengaging himself as he rose to his feet. “I was going to go get a cup of tea,” he told her. “Want me to bring you one?”

“Just a second,” she flustered, now all business, “I can’t let you go unescorted.” Grabbing her gear, she began belting it around her waist.

“I’ll grab whoever’s guarding the hatch,” he promised, “no need to get up.” Duty warred with embarrassment until she bobbed her head in thanks. “Be back in a jiffy,” he told her, before exiting the compartment.

As it happened, Becca was standing watch outside the door. “I was just going for some tea,” he told her, “and thought I’d give Rúna a break.”

“Of course, Ambassador,” she nodded, falling in beside him as they headed for the Mess Deck. As he went to turn a corner, he felt a hand take his arm, pulling him back. He turned, looking at his escort in confusion.

“... she’s been carrying that a long time,” Becca said quietly. “She won’t talk to us about it. Being a leader means being alone, more often than not. No one you can share that stuff with.”

“She didn’t actually share anything with me,” he admitted.

The sergeant cocked her head. “No… but she let her guard down, and that’s something she’s needed for a while now.”

He stared at her. “How could you possibly know what happened?” he demanded.

Becca shrugged. “Comes with the job,” she said, before gracing him with a small smile. “I just wanted to say thank you. She’s family… and when family’s hurting, and there’s nothing you can do, it’s like slow torture.”

Genvass nodded in understanding. “Kai,” he surmised.

“Yeah, they almost made it,” she said wistfully. “Would have been great together, too. Now?” She shook her head. “Not sure what I can do for her. Except be there, in case she needs me.”

“I guess that’s all any of us can do,” he agreed.

“Guess so.” The sergeant took a deep breath. “Anyway, that’s all I wanted to say.” Raising herself up to her full height, she gave him a nod. “Let’s get you that tea, Ambassador,” she said, as the professional mask slipped back into place.

Nodding, he followed behind as she led him to the Mess Deck.